Antecedentes

Having established in the above sections the epistemic significance and superiority of disability inclusive deliberative sites in this section I try to visualise different scenarios that explore how the disabled can join in the deliberative decision making process. For the scenarios I will follow the hypothetical cases Martha Nussbaum builds in her discussion regarding the capabilities of people with disabilities (Nussbaum 2010). However the discussion here will also be informed by a number of insights from previous sections and chapters. It will take into account the diversity of the disability experience (Chapter 2) and the need for a caring orientation in the exercise of citizenship, as well the practical implications this orientation brings to the deliberative site (Chapter 1).

When talking about the practical applications of the ideas explored above, one of the first challenges that needs to be acknowledged and addressed is the diversity of the disability experience. As mentioned more than once in the preceding chapters, the diversity of the disability experience means that every disabled individual's disability is unique and impacts his cognitive and communicative competence in a unique way. Therefore we have to first acknowledge that each

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disabled individuals' deliberative competence as well as accommodation needs in the deliberative site will be different. In practice, this means some individuals with physical or cognitive disabilities may not be able to reason or communicate at all, while others' abilities might nearly match those interlocutors who are not diagnosed with a disability. In the meantime many disabled individuals will be positioned somewhere between no deliberative ability at all and full deliberative competence.93 _{Consequently, any attempt to bring the perspectives of the disabled to the} deliberative site will have to take into account and work with these differences.

What, then, happens when individuals cannot deliberate like 'the rest', but their perspectives and preferences are as valuable as the rest? I suggest that the basis for an answer to this question can be found in the distinction we made earlier in Chapter 1, between the two opposing constructions of citizenship – the liberal vs caring citizen. To be reminded of this distinction once again, while the citizen in liberal theories is self-sufficient, independent, fundamentally egocentric and primarily engaged in pursuing his self-interests, the caring citizen is one already situated in networks of interdependent relationships. In times of conflict of interests, the liberal citizen's need for compromise arises out of competition or fear, resulting in a social contract. On the other hand the caring citizen's relationships arise not only from the need for survival, development and social functioning, but also from the human need to relate and care. Caring citizenship is situated against the liberal construction of the detached, independent individual and challenges the liberal glorification of autonomy and the stigma that this stigma creates around dependency.

I have also suggested in the same chapter that deliberative democratic norms and practices are very relevant and instrumental to include the traditionally marginalized, and in our case people

93 _{In Chapter 1 following Kemp I defined communicative competence as “being able to use speech acts}

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with disabilities in the polity, because deliberative democracy harbours the spaces and processes where particular needs of care recipients could be responded to if a caring disposition instead of moral indifference and calculated self-interest were embraced by the interlocutors. The lives of people with disabilities is probably one of the most distinctive settings where this sort of caring disposition becomes most visible. Disabled persons experience human interdependence much more visibly and widely in their lives, in that they usually rely on the support of parents, siblings, spouses, carers and so on. Moreover immediate family members as well as people who provide social services to the disabled are often subjected to courtesy stigma because of their relationship with the disabled.94 _{The association however goes beyond stigma, many times resulting in their} being disabled together. To give one very simple example – hypothetical but extremely likely – imagine an able-bodied mother who cannot even go out shopping because she cannot take her disabled son with her due to accessibility issues. Neither can she leave him alone at home. As a result, she experiences the results of her son’s disability first hand – his disability restricts her mobility much as it restricts his.

I propose that these relationships can be potential bases for representational claims or mutual enactments of citizenship, whereby the disabled may be physically present in deliberative sites with the persons who care for them as communicative-others who share and represent their perspectives, and who act as translators of their preferences. This notion of representation is informed by Saward’s representation as a claim and Young’s conceptualisation of representation as a differentiated relationship (Saward 2006; Young 2002). For Saward, representation is not something that is formally present or absent, it is a dynamic process. “It is made or constructed by someone, for someone, and for a purpose. (Saward 2006, 13). It is a claim to know what represents the best interests of someone. Young on the other hand argues that representation is a relationship

94 _{For two recent treatments on courtesy stigma or stigma by association see van der Sanden et al.}

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which does not involve an identity requirement, but instead describes “a relationship between the representative and the represented” (Young 2002, 127). The representative does not stand for the identity of the other person or a collective identity. Instead she looks after the interests of the person(s) she represents, voices their principles, values and priorities, and experiences the kind of social experience of the person she represents, which is in turn informed by their social group position.

In this regard, Clifford’s “collaborative speech” and Lanoix’s formulation of more able citizens can all be mentioned as the variations of the same theme (Clifford 2011; Lanoix 2007). In Clifford’s collaborative speech, participants [in deliberative spaces] “make political claims collaboratively as a way to ensure the inclusion of people with profound cognitive impairment”. Here “speech and actions are coordinated among differently situated yet still conjoined selves” (Clifford 2011: 220 – 221). Similarly, Lanoix suggests “broadening the foundational concept of the citizen from that of a self-governing and perpetually active participant to one that can include passive citizens”. Passive citizens include those with cognitive or physical disabilities that impede communication. For her, the non-disabled, active and self-governing citizens can regulate social institutions and arrive at decisions “with the explicit recognition that these principles and institutions will serve all inhabitants, not only those who are like themselves” (Lanoix 2007, 126). Again, Goodin and Lau invoke the concept of suretyship in electoral law to enfranchise incompetents [sic] (Goodin and Lau, 2011).

How, then, can this representation or translation of preferences look in the deliberative site and how does it affect opinion formation? Since there is no single disability identity and every individual’s disability as well as her relationship with her communicative-other will be unique, it is not possible to formulate a one-size-fits-all solution. However we can still imagine various

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scenarios whereby presence is channelled into the preference formation process through relationships of care. For this task, I use the three cases or scenarios that Nussbaum introduces in her discussion on the capabilities of people with cognitive disabilities (Nussbaum 2010). For practical reasons I will use the term ‘carer’ to describe the communicative-other who is in a care relationship with the disabled. In my formulation of representation below, the able-bodied carers who experience the disabling effects of caring for or living with the people with disabilities have a stronger claim or reason than anybody else to represent and translate the preferences of the persons they are associated with.

In the first scenario, let us assume that the individual has a mild mental or physical disability. She is capable of understanding, presenting or formulating responses to arguments, however it takes her more time and effort to do so. She might be deaf, blind or a wheelchair user. She might have limited reading abilities, anxiety disorders or agoraphobia. In this case, facilitating her inclusion may require relatively simple accommodations: making the site physically accessible, providing easy-read versions of documents or giving her more time to formulate or give her responses during deliberation. The carer’s role is relatively simple: helping with physical arrangements, intervening when the person has difficulty understanding or expressing an idea, or giving her assurance when she feels anxious. Here the person with a mild disability is a full interlocutor in deliberation, albeit with some help.

In the second scenario, the person’s disability prevents her from exercising most communicative functions, even with special arrangements. However she can communicate her preferences to her carer, perhaps by means of some personal code language. In this case, because she is comprehensible only to her carer, the rest of the interlocutors rely on the carer’s active involvement or translation in the deliberation process. The carer may translate the discussion both ways, and make sure that the preferences of the disabled interlocutor are

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understood. In her intervention she may have to elaborate the disabled person’s account to make it more comprehensible or compelling, or perhaps add her own insights that come as a result of the experience of being disabled with the person she cares. Meanwhile others can try to be sensitive to body movements, facial expressions and gestures where these may be expressions of preferences (Jenkinson 1993, 369). Here the person with a communication disability is an interlocutor through the co-presence of her communicative-other.

In the third scenario we must admit that some people’s disabilities are so severe that they are unable to form or respond to reasons and they are altogether unaware of their own interests to give consent. In this case we might expect a formally designated legal guardian or a person with a strong representative claim to represent the interests of the severely disabled person in the deliberative site. Again, what is important to remember in this extreme case is that although the disabled person herself may not be able to participate directly in deliberation, the perspectives that are represented by her legal guardian or carer – what we called the disability perspective above - will originate mostly from the same well of distinct experiences and social knowledge. While we cannot claim the experience to be identical to the disabled individual's, we can safely assume that it will be the closest, due to the relationship between the disabled individual and her guardian or carer.

While in all three cases people with disabilities, as well as their perspectives are brought into the deliberative site, a potential objection still remains: Given the nature of cognitive disabilities, how can we be sure that the perspectives that are communicated correspond to real interests and that their discussion will contribute to the quality of decisions? In answer to this question we need to remember once again the caveat already mention about deliberative competence above. The dichotomy that sets complete rationality and complete lack of it against each other is false and an illusion. Complete rationality is improbable for any interlocutor. Whether or not we have a

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disability, none of us is a perfect decision-maker. Our decisions are always affected by subtle, multifaceted and sometimes conflicting values, beliefs or biases (Jenkinson 1993, 364). Therefore by applying rational models too rigidly, we might in effect end up expecting the disabled to become better decision makers than the other interlocutors who do not identify or are not diagnosed as disabled.95 _{By the same token, setting the deliberative competence bar too high might not only bar} the disabled from deliberative sites, but also disqualify many who identify or are seen as non- disabled.

Moreover, the largest subcategory of people with mental disabilities is that of mildly disabled, who make up about 89 percent of the population with mental disabilities (Shomaker 2010). They would roughly fit in the second scenario above, meaning that given the opportunity, they could participate in deliberation. Their exclusion and the barriers set up against them are often more to do with the perceptions and the prejudices of the society than their communicative or cognitive abilities. The unstable relationship between shifting definitions of disability, the nature of diagnosis, and the label and stigma that the diagnosis instigates must also be mentioned. Definitions and diagnoses of cognitive disabilities are changed regularly.96 _{Some disabilities are} visible while others are invisible. Therefore in a deliberative site the only difference between one deliberator diagnosed with a cognitive disability, and the other with the same disability yet unaware or undiagnosed might be the diagnosis itself. In this case diagnosis becomes the performative utterance that sets aside and labels the person, and changes the society’s relationship with her.97 _{This only reinforces the fact that in the case of cognitive disabilities we are} not dealing with clear boundaries about who should be included and who should be left out of the

95 _{As a matter of fact, evidence from research points to the possibility of some status characteristics}

becoming a basis for stricter standards for the lower status person. See Foschi 2000.

96 _{There are two guides used by mental health professionals. The first is the Diagnostic and Statistical}

Manual of Mental Disorders, which was first published in 1952 and was revised for the fifth time in 2013. World Health Organisation’s International Classification of Diseases includes a psychiatric illnesses section and the current document is the 10th edition. Therefore new diagnoses are added or existing diagnoses are revised or changed in at least every 10 years.

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deliberative site. Therefore when in doubt we should err on the side of inclusion, because deliberative democracy has the necessary procedures and mechanisms to handle the challenge of cognitive disability, as I shall explain below.

I suggested above that the perspectives that originate from the distinct knowledges and experiences of persons with disabilities will be best evoked in deliberative settings by those who experience disability first-hand, making people with disabilities, rather than anybody else, the best candidates to voice their own interests. Similarly, research in decision making suggests that people are most likely to have clear preferences in issues that are familiar, simple and directly experienced (Jenkinson 1993, 364). Their experience – often of exclusion, segregation or additional hardship – makes them the best experts of their interests so far as disability policies and related issues are concerned. And it is this very experience of marginalisation that makes deliberative sites potential emancipatory venues for them, venues where their perspectives and consequently interests – otherwise unheard – can be brought to public discussion. In this sense topics that seem to be trivial to the rest of society may be extremely significant for the marginalised. Remember once again the scenario about the shops in Gloucester and how a well-intended arrangement that would have contributed to a pleasant weekend stroll for the rest of the community members would make the high street practically inaccessible to people with limited mobility.

Therefore while perspectives may be vastly different and interests are much more complex than they seem, deliberative democracy can respond to this complexity because it doesn’t regard interests as “brute facts that uncritically serve as input to legitimate decision-making”, but instead problematizes their status (Rostbøll 2005). Preferences are shaped and transformed through the mutual learning and insight gaining that takes place in the deliberative site. This transformation is enforced by the need to publicly justify preferences with regard to universal aspects of validity: pragmatic appropriateness, moral rightness and

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common good (Habermas 1987). Therefore I am not suggesting that any preference brought up by a disabled person be elevated to overwrite all other preferences because they have been marginalised for too long. I am however suggesting that the need to publicly justify preferences by the procedure of the force of the better argument already equips deliberative democracy to find the better arguments that serve moral rightness or common good.98

During deliberation we may expect to find that the preferences of those who are subjected to injustice or exclusion might have the force of the better argument behind them due to their appeal to moral rightness or common good. For the shopkeepers in Gloucester, the choice was between defending to keep their weekend profit and keeping a significant section of society from accessing the city centre. And this appeal to moral rightness or common good is directly linked to deliberative sites' becoming sites of emancipation – in this case for those who are marginalised due to their disabilities. However this is not a deliberative carte blanche for the marginalised because they are still subject to the same validity checks as every other interlocutor. For example, following the same high street scenario, if people with limited mobility requested that the town’s pavements are set aside for their exclusive use on weekends, their preference would be appealing to neither moral rightness nor common good, and therefore would have to be rejected after deliberation. These examples on preference formation where the disabled are present with the non-disabled in the deliberative site make it clear that deliberative theory’s democratic deficiency in the case of disability does not necessarily reflect a procedural inadequacy. On the contrary, once people with disabilities are allowed into the deliberative site, the more procedural elements such as adherence to validity checks or the force of the better argument may become the very means that guarantee an equal voice to the disabled in particular, and to the marginalised in general.

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Conclusion

This chapter's aim was to defend disability-inclusive deliberation from an epistemic point of view. The discussion was built on the claims of the preceding chapter about the significance of disabled individual's presence in deliberative sites. I have discussed how this presence not only makes deliberative sites more inclusive and therefore more democratic, but at the same time epistemically superior, and therefore preferable as a decision making process.

Attempting to include individuals with communicative disabilities in deliberative sites is a